Rose-Petal Embers

Her fingers thread through the thistle’s mist

as her eyes graze his jawline, pulling up into a grimace.

The thistle whispers as she flutters her fingertips across the spiky blooms.

For Rose, petals have retired; all that is left is the dead center of a

passionate popping fire; fizzling like a broken firecracker.

Her embers are strewn amongst the aching stems along their path; crackling heat.

His impatient numb toes leave prints of her death to repeat, repeat, repeat.

She strides beside him now, a specter in an earthly memory

while birds titter one last breathless tweet.

Crows kick off from branches high above as the cornflower sky

opens its maw and swallows the retreating black beings.

The thistle pierces through her permeable skin as his body melts away softly, falling

into ash at her side.

*Photo by "bogdanici" on DeviantArt*

A crippling band of pain creeps beneath the doorjamb and seeps into my torso, infiltrating my every receptor. I crumple forward, attempting to alleviate the pain, only to feel folded in on myself. A bit of jostling running steps on a fuzzy storage cube's lid gets my mind off the pain for a short while, but then quickly the excruciating devil is back, and both its horns have stabbed into my gut, wrenching the thorny exacerbation to my back. The day after, I am completely back to normal. But, sure enough, with a minuscule amount of food, the monster has crept into my bed again and is gorging on my sanity. This is the attack of gallstones, and an inflamed gallbladder.
Just recently, I had emergency gallbladder surgery. It was quite the experience, having never been through surgery and being quite shell-shocked the entire time. Blurred was that day after the initial statement that I would have to have the organ removed. But, just as a hint to other victims, eating with only a liver can be painful; in a different way, but still painful. I've learned to eat a little healthier, watching my fat intake and keeping up protein and fiber so as to keep my health in check. I can't say I saw the light or really remember any revelation of any sort, but I do know that losing an organ to bad habits killed those old habits quicker than a sharpshooter in a Wild Western movie.
I suppose, in Americans's busy lives, with easily accessible healthcare, surviving every day isn't hard for the average middle to upper class citizen. But with a wake up call such as I had, sometimes, it seems, one must stop and smell the roses we ingest; else we may just be swallowing thorns.